Last Wesen Standing
by Ishmael of the Clouds
Summary: Set after Last Grimm Standing. The story of a girl who was kidnapped and forced to fight in the Lowen games for years of her life, her struggle with insanity and the life of a fighter. Sorry for the bad summary, better than it sounds.T for gore. R&R please.


Kat braced herself for the arena. She could hear the screams of the spectators, the clash of metal on metal. A cry of pain pireced the crowd noise. She hated this, but she had no control over her situation. It had been almost two years since her capture, and she clung to a scrap of sanity like a man to the edge of a cliff. A roar of noise interrupted Kat from her thoughts. The ropes binding her cut into her skin. Her jeans were stiff with dried blood, and her torn spagetti strap top stank of it. The local Lowen spoke up, and Kat listened listlessly to a speech she had heard many times before.

"Our next challenger is from the north." The once-screaming crowd was silent with anticpation. Bastards, she thought. "Her Handler has taken her to many a game, and claims she is undefeated." Kat held back a snort, and focused on channeling her inner beast. Survival was top priority now. "Now our champion will face the ferocious Sabelkatze; Nemean!" In an instand the ropes were gone and she was launched into the small cage of the arena. She took in her opponent.

A big guy, he worked out before he was forced into this blood sport. Fully transformed, he had wicked teeth, held a shield and morning star. Obviously lost his mind, as had nearly all her other challengers. With a last scrutiny, Kat slipped into madness, and the fight began.

xxx

Nick watched carefully in the crowd at the current fight. This made him sick. He had recently tracked down another Lowen games, but this time he wanted to go undercover in it first. How he regretted that decision. This was the third fight tonight, and he felt nausea rising once again, but forced himself to move closer. A girl had been shoved out into the arena, she was small, maybe 14, with tight jeans and a black top, she was barefoot. Nick prepared himself to see her get ripped apart by the hunky lizard creature. She circled for a moment, apperently calm, before something happened.

She morphed, but not in a way that was normal to Nick. Her ears became triangular and moved up her head, then flattened in a sign of agression. Her face became feline, not like a Lowen, but more like a jaguar or puma, fangs curved out, they reached to just above her jaw line. Dark fur covered her body, and a tail lengthened and lashed back and forth. Claws, wickedly curved, serrated, and long, grew from each of her fingers and toes.

The transformation only took a moment, but she had regressed to an animal-like state that he had never seen before. She crouched, poised to strike. The lizard creature lunged forward, swinging the morning star, she lept out of the way, pivoted, and as the lizard turned to face her, she lept at him, catching him at the neck from the side. It gave a bellow of anger and pain. She jumped away as it swung the star up to hit her, and missed. There were bloody slashes and bite marks on its neck and shoulder.

The fight continued in this manner, the cat-like girl would dart in and out, leaving wounds where ever she struck. The lizard thing would always swing his morning star at her, or bring his shield around to hit her, but she was fast, and wasn't burdened down with extra weapons, she used only her teeth and claws. There was a pause; Nick surveyed the fighters. The lizard was red with scratches and bites, though few seemed deep they must have hurt like hell. The girl was crouched in a position of readyness, but she panted slightly, and she was not unmarked herself; she bore several scratches from the morning star, along with a single, deep spike wound, and was bruised from being hit with the shield.

The pause was shattered when they both lunged for each other. The shield and morning star were tossed aside as they wrestled violently on the blood-stained floor. Nick found himself up on his toes trying to see what who was winning. The pair rolled cloase just as the girl sunk her inch-and-a-half long fangs into the lizard mans neck. He howled in pain, and she was able to roll him under her. Her glowing green cat eyes focused on the Lowen directly across the arena from Nick. His thumb when throught the bars, and pointed down.

With a sickening jerk, the cat girl wrenched her head back, tearing out the throat of the lizard. It went limp. Nick looked away in horror. The girl couldn't have been older than 15.

xxx

She spat out the chunk of tissue, wiped her mouth and claws on the shirt of the dead man, and her Handler came into the arena with her ropes. Kat didn't fight, just let him lead her out.

Once in the comforting quiet and darkness of the Hold, she shifted back to human, and mentally went over her past again, to ensure she did not slip into the madness of this place. Her Handler put her in the insulated horse trailer that was her cage, and let her settle before leaning down to take off the ropes. But now she knew it was fruitless to fight him.

"You fought well. Be sure to keep it up. I have a lot of money on you." Kat resisted the urge to yawn, she had heard all this before. "Be more careful next time." He looked pointedly at her deep morning star wound. She dared to predict his next words. "But as you killed their best fighter, I'll let Ben patch you up. But don't think I will be so nice next time." He closed the door to the trailer and bolted it behind him. Kat had no illusions that he would be nice next time. He was the most merciful handler out there, but he was no Santa Claus.

Kat burrowed in the fragrent straw, patienly awaiting the arrival of Ben.

xxx

Ben's arrival jolted her out of a doze as he opened the door to the horse trailer. Kat looked up to see him standing in the entrance, shilloetted by the harsh parking lights.

"Hey Kat." As usual his tone was guarded, as his father had taught him, but Kat knew better.

"Hello Ben." She was a cheery as possible.

"Bad one huh?" He closed the door behind him and knelt down.

"Yeah. Morning star." She grimaced as she shifted to reveal the wound on her leg. It looked nastier now, without the adrenaline making it painless.

"Oh, yeah, that's a bad one." He opened his kit and started to take things out. There was a silence.

"How is it on the outside?" Ben paused.

"Normal. Dad is busy and distant, mom is busy. I'm alone and stuck in this life."

"Sorry man. Hey, where are we now?" Kat wormed out of her jeans.

"Oregon I think, I was asleep when we crossed the state line. Stretch out your leg." She extended her wounded leg for him to examine. He scowled.

"What's the prognosis doc?"

"Bad, this will take a while to heal, even for you." Dread washed over her, for a Lowen game gladiator, she had a great life. But if she couldn't fight anymore her Handler would dump her at the Lowen games to be used as arena fodder.

"How long?"

"Two weeks, three maybe." Damn. Most of her cuts were already half healed, and no infections had set in.

"Do you think,"

"Nah, you're the best fighter he's had for a while. You'll be fine." Ben always tried to comfort her. But Kat knew that Handler didn't keep fighters that couldn't prove their worth.

"I'm not sure. Handler treats me well, but if I can't fight at the next games, you know he'll dump me."

"Why do you always call him Handler?" Ben avoided the statement.

"You know damn well why. I can't call him my Owner, but I can't call him Patrick, and I certainly can't call him dad." Ben gave a bitter smile.

"Kat, you confuse me."

"I try." She smiled, well as much of a smile as she could make after nine months of Lowen games. Ben smiled back. There was a mutual silence as he bandaged her wound.

"Dad will be gone for a while, he has to collect bets." As per an unspoken agreement they had, Ben quickly swept some straw together, and laid back. Kat settled on top of him, her head against his shoulder, and she listened to his heartbeat. She wished she could have known him in better times. Even in better times a love affair between a Feliansar and a Casaureus would be odd at best. Kat dismissed these thoughts and did her best to doze, enjoying the company of Ben, it was one of her last few pleasuers in life.

She took a deep breath of his musky scent and fragrant straw. Giving a sigh of happiness, she tried to forget the last few hours, and drift off to sleep.

xxx

"You went to a Lowen game?" Monroe couldn't have looked more freaked out.

"Yeah." Nick took a long draught of beer.

"How many fights?"

"Three. The last one, man,"

"What happened?" Monroe asked, though by the look on his face Nick knew he didn't really want to know.

"Well, I saw a fourteen year old tear the throat out of a grown lizard man."

"Well, that can happen. If the girl is ruthless enough and the man is tried."

"But this was insane Monroe, and her eyes..." Nick couldn't find words for it. "When she was pushed into the arena, she looked sane. A little scared, steely, but sane. But right before she shifted, something changed. Like she just let go, and there was nothing but brutal lust for survival. After she killed him, it came back." It spilled out of his mouth like a waterfall. "She was normal again, she looked at the body, regret, but acceptance. She was sane again, but unperturbed with that fact that she had killed someone."

"Wow man. Wait, shifted, what was she?"

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "She looked a little like the Lowen, cat-like, brown fur, a full lenght tail."

"Fangs?"

"Yeah, and wicked claws. She became the more animal like than other creatures I've seen."

"I think you saw a Sabelkatze man." Monroe had an unscritible look.

"Is that good?"

"Well that all depends on what side of the arena you were on."

"What?"

"Sabelkatze are rumored to be the decendants of the saber toothed tiger, cause of their fangs. But most think they are closer to pumas."

"Really?"

"You saw those teeth. I knew one in high school. Man, he was the only wesen my brother never picked a fight with."

"What?"

"Sabelkatze are fierce, they're built to hunt and kill. It's thought that out of all the types of wesen in the world, they are the closest to their animal side. Which they are. They shift the farthest and have the strongest instincts. But Sabelkatze are loners. They don't like to be around people."

"Solitary?"

"Sort of, they don't like crowds. And their normally pretty pacifistic, so they'll only fight if you corner them."

"Huh." Nick tried to process it all, but he had a feeling that he would see this Sabelkatze again.

xxx

When Kat woke up, the trailer was empty, and moving. She could hear the sound of traffic and feel the vibrations of the road. Moving so soon, that wasn't like them. But she was wounded, he must want to move on to the other games, give her time to heal before the next fight. She sighed and burrowed into the straw. Her body heat wramed the trailer, most of the windows had been boarded up so the warmth would stay in. But she pulled her wool blanket over herself and drifted off again.

xxx

Sunlight flooded the trailer, waking Kat once again. She remained still and silent as her Groom entered, and put a bowl of thick soup on the floor. She was always fed well.

"I will bring you new clothes in a little bit. Eat your soup and Ben will be in to change you dressing." Short and sweet, her eyes followed the Groom as she left the trailer. Kat hauled herself up and crawled over to the soup, it smelled hot and good. Taking large bites, she didn't scarf it down, but it was gone too soon, along with the couple of bread slices left with it. Groom came in, took the bowl, and left a clean pair of jeans and top.

Great, the bloodsmell on her current outfit was driving her insane. Sunlight poured in, and her favorite person climbed in.

"Hey Kat."

"Hey." She pulled off her stiff jeans and poisitioned her leg so Ben could change the dressing.

"So were heading south." He made conversation as she stripped off her top, and reached for the clean one. He politely averted his eyes.

"Really? I heard there was a games in Tacoma." Listening to the other handlers talk was how she passed the time between fights.

"Yeah, but I think I overheard dad mention some small fights down in Ashland. He must want to give you recovery time."

"I guess so. And if the fights are in Ashland, they are going to be small. If I don't fight well, not many will see."

"You should be fine by the time we get there. You're healing fast." She gave a bitter chuckle.

"Fast compared to other people, or fast for me?" Ben gave a slight smile as she tightly wrapped the new dressing.

"Fast for you."

"Good, if I keep healing faster there may come a fight where I don't get injured at all." She joked.

"Then I would be out of a job." There was a pleasant silence, jokes were few and far apart. Groom called out from the RV.

"Ben, hurry up! We need to get back on the road!"

"Yes mom!" He called back, and taped the bandage in place.

"See ya." Kat just nodded and watched him go. As the RV hauling her trailer roared to life, she circled in the straw and curled up. On the road, sleeping was the only thing she did, and she needed to heal. Once again, sleep took her.

xxx

"What about a coyote?"

"Huh?" Monroe was lost.

"What kind of creature looks like a dog thing, not like you, more, coyote like."

"A Kojotehasslich maybe? The're coyotes. Or a Schlaufuchs, the're fox creatures. I'm not sure man, you need to be more specific."

"Well, the guy who shoved the Sabelkatze girl into the arena, when she was fighting, he was shifted."

"What exactly did he look like?"

"Well, pointed nose and chin, sharp teeth, but smaller than yours, more like needles. Um, big ears, definitely dog like."

"Was his hair like a dark color, or sandy? Sometimes the hair color helps."

"Um, kind of sandy, it was dark, I couldn't make out much. But if I had to guess, kind of a sandy blonde, maybe a little darker."

"You could ether have a Kojotehasslich or a Schakal."

"Schakal?"

"A jackal creature. They are kind of like Kojotehasslich, but they are quieter, and not as two faced. And I think you would be more likely to see a Schakal arena-side at Lowen games."

"Why?"

"They're smart, but thats not why they hang out at Lowen games. They know a little effort can produce good things, so they're often are the big time Owners."

"Owners?"

Yeah, well there are two sides to the gladiators in the games. There are the ones like in the games we did, that stay at one game, and fight each other. But there are also the high rollers." Nick raised his eyebrows, this was getting weirder. "A Owner has one or two fighters, really good ones, and they travel from Lowen game to Lowen game. They make bets on their fighters, and when they win, collect the money and more on."

"What do you mean, when they win? From what I saw,"

"Nick, with the Owners, if you're a fighter, they treat you more like a champion race horse, instead of a fighting dog. These fighters are actually not treated badly. They get medical care, food, a warm place to sleep. Sometimes even training. Besides the fact you fight for your life at least once a week, not a bad life."

"How do you know all this?"

"I met a Schakal once. Pretty nice guy. Quiet, he traveled with his wife and son in an RV. We were both waiting at a gas station, and got to talking."

"Was he an Owner?" Monroe looked hesitaint.

"Well, yes, but I though he was a nice guy before I knew that. He was hauling a horse trailer behind his RV. He kept his fighter in it."

"Monroe!"

"Look man, this was a long time ago, before I was rehabilitated. This guy treated his fighter really well seriously. He had food, a warm trailer, clean straw to sleep in, blankets. And the guy's son actually wanted to become a docter, so he could help the fighters when they get injured."

"Clean straw? Do you hear yourself? The fighters are treated like animals!" Nick forced himself to calm down. "What was his name?" He didn't look like he would divulge it, but Nick glared into his eyes.

"Patrick, I think. Patrick Holohan."

"What about the wife? Son?"

"I don't remember his wifes name, but I think his son was Ben." Nick nodded and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" Monroe tagged behind him.

"The precinct. I don't know if Holohan is the one I'm looking for, but he can lead me to him."

"Man," But Nick was already gone.

xxx

"Kat." Ben's voice woke her, and she started up. The door opening normally woke her first. Ben sensed that he startled her. "It's okay Kat it's just me." He soothed. Life in the Lowen games made it dangerous to surprise her.

"I'm okay." She reasurred herself, as her claws vanished.

"We passed Salem a little while a ago. It took us a long time cause dad avoided the whole city." He didn't want others to know his fighter was injured. It meant he wanted to keep her around. If he wanted to get rid of her, he would have dumped her at the Salem games, where they would have made short work of her. She had barely survived her round of fights the only time she was there, and at that time she was fresh out of arena fodder life. She was insane, brutal, and uncontrolable. Since then she had never been back there.

"I'm glad he went around. I still have the scars from my last Salem Lowen games." Ben winched in sympathy.

"Those were bad. I only watched one of those." And he never will again. Kat knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. "I have no idea how they get those poor beings so brutal." She just shook her head, shaking off the awful, burred, half forgotten memories of that arena.

"Whatever. So how long til Ashland?" They were traveling fast, or she was just sleeping a lot. A slight tug at her wound remined her he was changing the dressing. She ignored the discomfort and waited for his answer.

"A week maybe. I know he wants to stop at a seaside town for a couple days. To appease mom you know."

"Yeah." Her Groom always liked to loiter on the road, stop at the nicest spots, linger in the quaint little towns. Normally the primal part of Kat itched to get to the next fight, but in this case she didn't mind in the least.

"I think we will head out to the coast again." Kat inhaled deeply through her nose. Coming rain, but not much. Some leftover morning mist, trees, moss, leaf-mold. A very slight tingle of salt. The ocean was close, but they were in the foothills, out of sight and sound.

"I hope we do." She aloud herself a sigh of pleasure. "I love the smell of the ocean." Ben gave her a soft smile, the kind of smile he gave her when she said things like that, things she normally did not say, as they did not exist in her life now. Things from her life Before. The soft smile that tickled something in the back of her mind.

"I love it too, Kat." She smiled back at him for a moment before a loud honk disrupted them, and he hurriedly taped her bandage shut. Without another word, he whisked out, and the door shut behind him. She gave a sigh of sadness, and lay back down.

xxx

The roar of the ocean woke her. It hit her full in the face and Kat started up. In a crouch, she took it in. Ben, with a wide grin, seemingly unconcerned that she was halfway to creature form, behind him the scenery caught her attention. Ocean, unbroken deep blue ocean. Warm, bright golden sunlight, light sand. The smell, god the smell, salt and water, sand some ash, open air. She wanted to dash out, but saw Handler off to the side behind Ben. She forced herself to relax and stand erect. Her head came up to Ben's shoulder.

"Hey." Handler stepped forward, Kat repressed a growl. She wanted to run freely, and he would impare that. "You're lucky I'm giving you beach time. For this you will take down in less than two mintues in the next fight. Got it?" She nodded, and he reached forward to fasten on her collar.

"Wait." Groom came out from nowhere. She held clothing. Handler growled slightly and stepped back. "Here." She said softly, handing Kat a pair of shorts and a bikini top. "If you want them." She leaned closer and whispered in Kat's still slightly feline ear. "Thanks." Thanks for getting hit by a morning star so I could have a vacation. But new clothes were new clothes. Kat quicky changed, liking the difference from tight jeans and spagetti strap tops.

"Come on." Handler said gruffly. He put on a leather collar attached to a sturdy rope. He stepped back, she she walked unsteadily out of the trailer, trying to be firm and confident, but the pronouced limp made her flinch.

"Here." He handed the end of the rope to Ben, and stalked off. Ben gave her a winning smile and walked over too her.

"He just has his cup in a twist cause mom forced him to stop and let you out." She smiled back at him, always nervous too speak while near Handler. "Dont't worry." They walked down the beach, next to the wet sand. The feeling of the sun felt indescribably wonderful on her bare legs and stomach. She glanced down at herself, and grimaced at her snow pale skin.

"I wish they let me wear this more often." Ben laughed, he was in an awfully good mood.

"You're not that pale. You look good." He paused as his eyes traveled up her curves. Not in a pervert way, just a natural reaction. She smiled.

"Eyes up here big fella." He grinned at her. She loved his eyes, they were a dark, moody green-brown.

"Yes mam'." He teased. It felt so normal, so wonderfully normal. Only the rubbing and weight of the stiff leather collar remined her of her real life. She sighed.

"I love this. I wish we came here more."

"He's strict though, Kat. You know that. He wouldn't let you out very much." Ben picked up on the hidden meaning behind her words.

"I know, I know. I need to keep my edge." Talk of the arena seemed to darken the bright summer day. Her limp bothered her, and her leg had started aching dully.

"How's your leg?"

"Fine. Aches a little, but fine." He grimaced with sympathy.

"Well, this should help it to not heal stiffly." She was a little alarmed.

"Was that a issue?"

"Well, it was deep, and right in the meat of the muscle. But Mom and I will be convincing dad to stay here for a while. The walking and salt water will help you heal faster."

"Good. How long are we staying?"

"We, if dad has his way, one night. If mother and I have our way, two weeks. But it should settle at a week or so." The thought of it was too much to bare; a week here, in this paradise? Walking on the beach, feeling the sun on her skin, the sand between her toes. It was too much to process, and she stumbled. Ben expertly steadied her in his surprisingly strong arms.

"Hey, hey Kat, are you okay?"

"A week..." She trailed off and he smiled.

"A week Kat." She smiled back at him, slightly dazed. She straigthened up, and they kept walking in mutual silence.

xxx

The week sped by too fast. Walks on the beach, during the day and at night. Her skin lost its pallor, her wound healed, her strength came back. There was an ugly scar on her leg, and a ring of chafted skin around her neck from the collar. But she felt wonderful, better than she had in a long time. The ocean smell in her nose all the time, the open sky above her head. She never wanted to leave. But her last walk on the beach came too soon.

"Hurry. We've been here too long" was all Handler said. Ben had a bittersweet look on his face, and Kat did her best to re-assimilate into real life.

"Will I be fully flexible for the games? Will it give me any problems? Ben's expression went from bittersweet to sad.

"Maybe a little stiff, but it shouldn't give you any trouble."

"Good." Was all she said. Silence followed them back to the trailer.

"Vacation is over." Handler was harsh, but there was a soft catch to his voice. She changed, and her shorts and bikini top were taken, replaced by her familiar tight jeans and black spagetti strap top. The study fabric caught her puckered scar, and she flinched as the painful tugging. The collar was gone, and she was once again surrounded by the homey walls of her trailer. Instead of laying down in the freshly changed straw, she leaned againist the door of the trailer and looked out the small window, as the shrinking shore.

A jolt told her the RV was back on the highway, and she gave up, took a few unsteady steps across the floor. Sank down, and slept.

xxx

Kat lay in the straw, but her eyes were wide open, and sleep was the farthest thing from her mind.

You are now entering Ashland. The sign was plastered in her mind's eye. One memory she recalled from Before was being in Ashland. Seeing the Shakespeare festival. But it was blurred, like any other memories. But it meant something besides her old life. Her next fight. She was agitated, this wasn't a big fight, but it was important. She needed to prove she still had worth.

And the other feelings that came with an impernding fight. The horrific eagerness to taste blood, to feel the adrenaline and lust for survival. It no longer scared her, it hadn't since her first week as arena fodder. Now, though she was mostly sane again, those feelings always came. Blood, teeth, sword, claws, slashing, crowd roars, biting. Killing. The exilaration of ripping out the throat of your opponent. But after, she always had to remind herself that she was human, she shouldn't kill, but had to. But with each kill, she came closer to sociopathness. She could feel it, and fought it off with every fiber of her being.

The RV stopped. Nothing left to do but wait. Ben wouldn't come to see her, he never did before a fight. So she shifted, settled, and listed off all the ways she was human, all the reasons why she should not sink into madness.

xxx

Sound. It surrounded her. Suffocated her. Breathe, Kat reminded herself. Breathe. Your set is almost up. One fight tonight. She flexed her leg and moved it around, a little sore, but not stiff. And this was Ashland. They had one Lowen games here, and their champion should be an easy kill. Her ropes jerked and she started forward, stumbling slightly.

"Don't do that in the ring." Handler growled. Losing a mental battle, she snarled explosivly back at him. His face shifted, nose and chin elongated, teeth pointed and fine sandy fur covered his face. "Good." He growled hoarsly. "Very good." With that the ropes came lose and she was shoved out into the ring.

"Shit." She gasped out. No preparation time. No time to make sure she didn't go insane. She crouched and froze, ever nerve in her body turned to ice. A Blutbad. A snarl came from a mouth that was barely human. He was so far from sanity he had almost completely regressed. She thought. Okay, get a grip on yourself. A lock of hair hung in front of one eye, but she remained stock still, her eyes locked with the bloodred ones of the wolf man. Almost totally lupine face, longer claws, more prominant ears. She tried to take it all in quickly. It put a paw-like foot forward, testing her. He howled, and fire rushed through her veins. Kill, maim, my ring, my place. A voice in the back of her head whispered, _let go. _A snarl from the wolf. _I am the alpha. You bow to me. _It said. Kat let go.

She roared in anger, and lunged, regressing. I will not bow to you! You are not my alpha! She sreamed and growled at him. The bloody light in his eyes showed his pleasure at her fury. But he did not understand how deadly cunning her fury could be. They hit, her fangs sought the pulse of life in his neck, he twisted, stabbing at her with a weapon she had not seen. Sword. She flipped her wrist and sunk her claws deep into his lower arm, above the life pulse in the wrist. A squeal of pain and groan from the crowd rewarded her. The sword fell. His hind claws kicked at her legs, leaving bloody furrows in her jeans and flesh. She cried out in pain and her back arched. He shoved her off of him, but was unable to wound her further.

Kill, kill, blood, rip, claw, bite, kill. It cycled through her brain. She landed heavily on her back feet, and wobbled slightly, but stayed up. The Blutbad flipped himself to his feet and came at her. They were fast, she tryed to dodge, but he slammed into her side. His face buried in her neck as he attempted to disembowel her. She wriggled and ripped at the back of his head with fangs and claws. Her tail lashed. She got her powerful, albeit wounded back legs under him, and pushed with all her might against his gut,.

He was pushed back, but still clung to her, his claws digging into her back. She sunk her back claws deep into his flesh, scrabbling and tearing at his intestines. He whimpered and snarled, but didn't let go. Her strenght was seeping away as he leaned forward desperatly to rip at the pulse of her life blood. Ducking her head, she let her legs go slack abruptly, and the Blutbad practically fell on top of her. She was rewarded by her nose in his neck, feeling his life pulse. Without waiting for the Lowen to give a judgement, she sunk her fangs as deep into the soft neck-flesh as they could go, he whimpered and wriggled but knew better than to pull, and she jerked her head back with all of her power. Half of his neck tore off and warm blood seeped from it into her mouth, making her jaws bite down instinctively.

"Nemean! Nemean! Nemean!" The crowd shouted for her. She stood, head held high, and roared proudly for their approval, making the meat fall from her mouth. Handler came into the arena and she growled, wanting to fight more. This was her place! But with the easy quickness of experience, he tied her ropes and dragged her out to her trailer. The night air hit her nose and started to clear her head. She shook vigerously as she struggled between madness and sanity. Handler opened her trailer and shoved her roughly inside, untied the ropes, and paused as she lay shuddering on the just-changed straw.

"Get a hold of yourself, Kat." My name. Her name, she clung to it like a man to the edge of a cliff. Kat. My name is Kat. I was born July 20, 1997, the chinese year of the ox. My mother was Amanda and my father was Mark. It hurt, god it hurt so bad to think of them, their names, but she had to. The bloodlust still clung to her like dark water. My name is Katlin Duff and I love hiking on a warm spring day. I read a lot, I had a book with me wherever I went. I had a pet dog named Rocky, he was a malamute, he is dead.

These things she repeated in her mind over and over again. Must remember. Must remember so I can hold on. She was left like this as the night darkened. the stars appered, and the moon rose. The watched her murmur to herself. Grey dawn came, and the road hummed under the wheels, still she murmured. The sun reached its peak, and she could speak no more. Sleep took her like a cold black wave, full of fear and uncertainty.

xxx

A week had passed. Kat was still shaken. She didn't speak when Groom came in to feel her and replace her tattered jeans and blood stained top. She said nothing when Handler came in and put on her ropes so she could walk around and her legs wouldn't heal stiffly. She didn't even say anything when Ben came in. Sweet Ben who dressed her wounds even though his father had not given him permission. Gentle Ben who asked quietly if she was okay every time he snuck back to see her.

The door squeaked and Ben came in quietly. The look on his face when he had first seen her after the fight was all to vivid in her memory. The blood stained straw under her giving off a reek, her clothes stiff from blood, her face and hands caked in it. Her shaking, suffering, trying to get back onto the cliff instead of falling into the abyss. His face, oh god. She buried her face in her arms.

"Oh Ben." She said, her voice hoarse from the long silence. "I lost it. I killed him." Stop. Kat told herself. Stop, you can feel awful about losing it, but if you start to regret killing, it will all colaps.

"Shh, shhs." He swiftly knelt down beside her. "It's okay Kat, you did what you had to."

"I lost it. I told myself I wouldn't lose it again. I lost control. I can't lose control. Why do I need to maintain control?" The words poured out. A continuous stream of thought that she could not stop. "Why? I will never escape from this life. Why do I care about losing control? About holding onto humanity? I will never see my family again. And do I even want to see them after all that has happened? I will die in the arena someday. That is all I know now. The arena. The blood, tearing flesh, the death all around me. Why do I not just let go?" The train stopped. She fell silent. Ben was equally silent. But his eyes... He had an expression that told of silent suffering unknown. Of such quiet torture of the soul that Kat felt grief just looking into his green-brown eyes.

"Don't give in Kat. Keep your humanity, if for no other reason than that I love you." Kat was suddenly lightheaded. Was I breathing? She thought.

"You," Did I just speak?

"I love you Kat." She mouthed words soundlessly. He reached out a hand to her, but let it fall, got up, and started to leave. When he looked back, their eyes met. The quiet torment of his eyes, she looked down. The trailer door shut. She looked back up at the plain white door, unexpected tears blurring her vision.

"Do I love you too?"

xxx

The days past. Sleeping, looking out the window, eating. They were heading north again. Ben hadn't visited since the night after her last Lowen game. Only Groom opened the trailer now. The bandages had been removed by her, but not replaced. This was her punishment for getting wounded again. But they were healing. Slower than she wanted, but healing without complications none the less. Finally, after at least two weeks, she saw a sign.

Now entering Portland. Portland. So soon to return? Maybe Handler had an unfinished bet. But she didn't complain, she was well known there, and that meant more bets, more money, and a happier Handler which made everything better. They parked, and Groom came in. She carried new clothes and a plate with a hunk of meat, a boiled potato, and some broccoli. She smiled at the meal, and sniffed the meat. Beef, nice, cooked medium rare like all the other meat she was given. Caring little about manners, she picked up and tore off chunks of it. Groom paused at the door and watched her for a moment. Kat looked up. What? She asked with a cock of the head and a change in expression.

"Ben has been quiet. And I know he isn't visiting you anymore." You are going where with this? But Kat said nothing. "Keep it together today, okay." A nod was the only aknowlegment she gave. After swiftly chasing down the meat with the potato and broccoli, Groom left with the plate. Taking her time, Kat started to change. After pulling on her jeans gingerly over her puckered scars, she got up and walked around the trailer. Working the stiffness out of her legs.

Hours might have pasted, or mere minutes. Kat paid no attention to the sun, when Ben came in.

"Kat." Kat went stock still, she thought it had been Handler opening the door. Not daring to turn, she remained as still and silent as a statue. She heard steps, and now could just barely feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. Don't turn. Don't turn. "Kat I," He choked off. Cleared his throat. "Kat, I do love you. I don't know why or how. But I remember a month after my dad pulled you out of Salem," They both flinched. "You were justing laying there as I changed your bandages, I was finishing up when you said, 'My name is Kat'. I will remember that moment for the rest of my life. You eyes then, they were normal. Curious, but guarded, warm. Not like just after Salem, when they were dead, cold, depraved. But, Kat, I fell in love with you. When we would talk, you told me about your life before the games, your dreams and wishes. You opened me up to a world I never knew. Despite your constant kills, your fights, you remained, well, you. And that I fell in love with." He stopped. All her thoughts over the past weeks had been about this, all her waking moments pondering it.

"I," She stopped. Her heart ached. "I don't love you Ben." His eyes, oh God his eyes. She started to get choked up. The utter dispair that came from literally years of silent wondering, yearning, only to be dashed upon the shores of her iron heart. "I know I should, and I want too, but I don't. You were always so good to me, you saved me in more ways than one. You are my best friend, the only person I can call a friend, but I don't love you. I'm sorry, Ben." He nodded, just nodded, and backed out. She forced back tears. He gave her one last look, with a depth of grief, suffering, and sadness, that was beyond description, closed the door, and walked away.

Kat colasped. She sobbed into the wool blanket, her whole body heaving violently, as she wept for Ben, for his love, for her, for her lack of love, and for the situation they were trapped in that allowed all possiblities, but denighed all reciprecation.

xxx

The sun had just set, and Kat could feel the tenseness of her body. As she paced relentlessly, her mind raced, and she didn't even bother to keep up. A growl escaped her lips. She couldn't lose it this time, not this time, not again. She might not love Ben back, but she needed to stay sane for his sake. Then again, no! Don't go down that path! She was interrupted when the trailer door swung open, and Handler waited silently. Time to fight.

xxx

"I'm going to the precinct."

"Again? Didn't you just come from there?"

"Sort of, but I need to break up the next fight."

"Dude, you havn't been back there for almost two months, do you even know it is at the same place?" Monroe tried to stall Nick, he didn't want him to make an idiot of himself.

"Another boxer went missing, a Yagerbar. I need to break it up before more people get hurt."

"Do you know how many people get hurt at the Lowen games in one day?" Nick ignored him as pulled on his jacket.

"I just have a feeling about tonight."

"Oh crap, a feeling. That might not end well."

"I know, but I have to get a raid, tonight."

"Good luck." Monore said at Nick's retreating figure. Monroe sighed defeatedly and closed the door, hoping that was the last he would hear of the Lowen Games.

xxx

"Look, captain, I know this isn't a soild lead, but we need to do a full scale raid of this warehouse."

"You really think those gladiatorial fighting rings have started up again?" Renard's eyes bored into Nicks soul. Hank stood quietly in the corner, Nick knew he didn't agree, but was standing by him none the less.

"Yes sir. Please trust me on this. I know the fighting has started again."

"You want me to authorise a full scale police raid based on your hunch?"

"Sir, please, we need to do this. The operation is bigger than the former, and it need to be taken down." Silence as Nick and Renard stared each other down. The seconds lengthened.

"Fine. But you better be right. I'll pull some strings, and you'll have you raid at midnight."

"Thank you sir." Nick hurried out of the room. If this is happening at midnight I need to get some sleep, he thought as he whisked out of the office.

xxx

The crowd roar was muted. The ropes rubbed against her wrists. Smell overwhelmed her, sweat, blood, exilaration, fear. A sour medly of suffering and triumph. Smokey light wrapped the exterior, but the arena was lit blinding white. Kat hugged the shadows. Reality blended wither her memories of Salem. The salty blood smell in her nose, the flesh rip under her claws, tear under her fangs, the smoke, sreaming, blinding light, murky shadows. A tug on her wrists brought her out the dark waters of memory to the arena. The roar became sharper.

"Go." Handler stared into her eyes, his green orbs bored into her very being. The ropes vanished. She vaugely heard her arena name called.

"Nemean!" Light blinded her for a moment. The cold concrete was sticky in places under her bare feet. _Give in._ A voice within her murmured. _Give in._ Carefully but quickly she stored away that one thing that would pull her out of it, and slipped backwards, into the bloody shadows of arena insanity.

xxx

Nick held his gun stiffly. There were no lights outside the warehouse, but muted sound was heard from within. He gave the signal, and plunged in.

xxx

Recognition. She had seen this Wesen before. His smell was heavy in her nose. His craggy, bull-like shifted features were all to familiar.

Salem. He was from Salem. He had almost killed her, but the Lowen had shown her mercy. Now he would pay. A screaming roar erupted from her throat as she regressed farther into animal form. Fur was longer, hands and feet more pawlike, jaw narrower, fangs longer. Rocking back onto her hind legs, she launched herself at the object of her rage.

He bellowed as she stuck him, jaws snapping at the base of his neck, claws scrabbling at chest. He grabbed her by the scruff and threw her. She landed on all fours, he started to run at her, head down, wicked horns in line to gore her. Another snarling scream. Gathering her stength, jumping over. Wheeling around as he came to a shuddering stop and roared with anger. Lunging she hit his gut, drew blood, scratched clawed, pushed away. Lurched forward towards her. Ears flat against her head. Duck under the arms, sword. Claw arm, the sword falls, he towers above her. No room to manuver. Push upward with all her strength. A swinging horn cuts her from under her right breast, curving around to armpit. Burrow under the heavy chin. A bellow sounds when he realizes her position. Sinking her fangs deep into the soft flesh of his throat. Hot, sweetly salty blood flows into her mouth, over her face. Rips, tears, he starts to fall, down, down. Jump back, pull free. With a mightly crash he falls. The flesh hung from her mouth, dripping salty victory.

She turns to the crowd, but the roar has changed. Confusion, panic, cops! She saw a uniform. As her sane self struggled to throw off arena insanity and the meat fell from her mouth. She fervently wiped the blood from her face, staining her arms. Okay, okay, I'm in control again. She reasurred herself. I'm in control. The door to the arena opened, and a man stepped in.

xxx

Nick stared at the Sabreknatz in the ring. In the seconds that they entered, he had seen her kill her opponent. He had seen the bloodlust in her eyes. The blood on her mouth and hands. She started to scrub it hurriedly off, and he looked at her eyes. Surprised, worried, stressed, but normal. He kept the gun up, there was no aggression in her face or body language, but there was also very little fear.

"Portland PD." Nick had no idea what to do. Arrest her? She had just killed someone. But she was also a victem.

"Arrest me." Her voice was hoarse and quiet. Acting on autopilot, he spun her around and cuffed her. There was abrasions on her neck and wrists. She didn't struggle, just stood there as he quickly spoke the Miranda rights. What was she? Nick kept thinking. She was a Sabelkatze, a fighter in the Lowen games, a fourteen year old girl. But all of that did not seem to answer his question.

xxx

"State your name for the record." Nick sat across the table from the girl he had taken from the arena. After allowing samples to be taken, the blood had been washed off her arms and face. She was silent. In fact, she hadn't spoken a word since the arena. He leaned in closer.

"Please state your name for the record." She remained still and silent. Thinking back, Nick remembered the abrasions on her wrists, probably from ropes used to bind her. Keep her from running away or attacking her handler. She cuffed right now, so maybe Stockholm syndrom had something to do with it. Slowly and carefully, he bent around and unlocked the cuffs, letting them dangle to the table.

"Please state your name for the record." A moment of silence.

"No." It was soft, he could barely hear it. Realizing he wasn't going to get far like this, so he turned off the tape recorder.

"Whats your name?"

"Kat." Ironic.

"Your full name."

"Why do you need to know?" Her voice was slightly louder, but still quiet and soft. She looked up from the table. She looked, and sounded perfectly sane, but in her eyes there was a depth of darkness.

"I need to notify your family."

"I don't want them to know." Nick was utterly puzzled. She had been rescuded from who knows how many months of Lowen games and she didn't want to see her family?

"Why?" She looked him full in the face, her eyes gazed into his. They were chocolate brown, and full of darkness and pain unimaginable.

"I am not the girl who was kiddnapped from them. It would be better if they kept on thinking I was dead. It would be better for all of us."

"How long have you been," He searched for the right word.

"One year, maybe two now. I can't really remember." Almost two knew now he would need to take a different track for this. She was obviously damaged from her experience, and as he thought, maybe it would be better if they didn't know she was still alive. He made sure that cameras were off before continuing.

"Look, I'm a Grimm." She tensed. "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." She didn't relax.

"A Grimm? And a cop?"

"Yes. But I need to know about your, um, Owner." Her face twisted.

"I don't want to talk to a Grimm. I'm sorry, please," Her eyes pleaded. "Please just let me go. Just let me out of here. I can't live in a normal home again. I can't go back to my family, they"re better off without me. I can't go into foster care, that would be disasterous." She had thought this through. "Please, I'm fourteen and I am now perfectly capable of surviving on my own. Just let me walk out of here." Nick stood up and looked down at her.

"I'll come back." Once outside the room, he realized he had been holding his breath. Hank turned to him.

"Stubborn?"

"You have no idea. But I think I know how to get her to talk. I'm going to get someone who should help, don't let anyone else in there. I need to keep this closed."

"Okay. We are still holding that family found at the sence." The family. Patrick, Isobel, and Ben Holohan were in a holding cell together. They had been found at the sence, along with their RV and horse trailer, which after a search, had revealed medical supplies, and bloodstained clothing that was the same size the girl, Kat, wore. He hoped it was the same Holohan that Monroe knew. During the arrest he had seen the father shift. Pointed canine nose, sandy fur with a black stripe down the back of his head, large triagluar ears. A Schakal.

"Good, keep them there, I will need to interview them after I get her to talk." He grabbed his coat and headed out.

xxx

"Monroe." Nick stood at the doorstep of his last option.

"Oh Nick, what," Monroe caught on quickly to his expression.

"The games, we broke up a games, and an Owner was there. His fighter killed her opponent as we came in. The fighter was a girl, fourteen and I'm pretty sure a Sabelkatze. She is at the precinct right now." Monroe paled.

"Does she have arena insanity?" Nick assumed that was when someone went insane from killing.

"No, she seems sane, but she won't talk to me. She doesn't want to go back to her family." Monroe nodded. "And I know putting her in foster care would be a bad idea, so I though if you pretended to be her uncle or something,"

"That is a worse idea Nick. They are going to do a backround check. Besides, I can't take in a teenage girl who may or may not have arena insanity."

"Please Monroe. At least just come with me."

"How will you explain,"

"I actually remember someone who could get you fake papers. We can stop on the way to get him started." There was a moment of silence.

"Fine. But just a start."

"Great." Nick practically ran to his car, with a hesitant Monroe in tow.

xxx

Nick brushed past the odd looks he got from other cops, and before Hank could say anything he pulled Monroe into the interview room. Kat looked up from the table and gave a deep growl, her features shifted.

Sturdy feline muzzel, fangs, short brown fur, small triangle ears. He would never get used to it. Monroe shifted too and growled reasurringly, if that was possible.

"Sorry for that." Kat said. "My last encounter with a Blutbad was, well, not great." They all knew what she hadn't said. She had met a Blutbad in the games, and come out on top.

"Hello, I'm Monroe."

"Hello Monroe. I'm Kat. Why did you bring a Blutbad? I have to say, Grimm calling in a Blutbaden for help is not something I would have expected." Nick opened his mouth, and struggled to explain what he was planning. The Wesen waited.

"Well, Monroe is a friend of mine, and he is a Wieder Blutbad, and I thought, if you talk, then you can stay with him." Monroe didn't look happy about where this was going.

"Did you tell him this?" Perceptive cat. "But it would be better than foster care, or just taking care of myself." Monroe still didn't look happy.

"Please Kat." He used her name, and she fixed him with an intense look.

"Fine." She said after a pause. "I know it isn't fixed, but I know you are willing to go to lenghts to get me to talk. So I will." Nick sat quickly, and Monroe followed in the suit. "So what do you want me to talk about?"

"Start with your, Owner." She took a pause before starting.

"The whole family were technically my Owners. The man, Patrick I think, was my Handler. The woman,"

"Isobel."

"Isobel, was my Groom (she brought me food clothes, made sure I was clean) and Ben was," She stopped. "Ben was my doctor basically. He would patch me up after fights. They picked me up in Salem two years ago I think. It must be two years now. But they actually saved my life, or at least lengthened it. I was always well fed, taken care of. I got medicinal treatment, clothes, and early on they pulled me out of arena insanity. I don't hold any real grudge against them. If I had been released straight out of Salem, I would have gone on a rampage. But with them... They were good people at heart I guess, besides how they made their money."

"They made you fight to the death!" Monroe broke in. "Every week you were thrown into the arena and forced to fight to the death, to kill other Wesen for no reason."

"They did. They did. But I had killed enought at Salem," She looked down at the table. "I know it sounds awful, but it didn't bother me anymore really. Also, all of the ones I fought had arena insanity, past the point of no return. They had nothing to live for either."

"What is Salem?" She had mentioned it, and Nick wanted to get away from the current subject.

"Salem. Salem, Salem is," She stopped, seeming unable to go on. She opened her mouth to continue, but when she did speak, her voice was flatline almost. Spoken without emotion, empty but tormented. "Salem is where I was first kidnapped. I was arena fodder, thrown into the ring to die. But due to my Sabelkatze instincts i survived, at some point I slipped into arena insanity. I was beyond insane. I killed brutally, indescriminantly, and I enjoyed it. The primal, violent part of me came out and took over. It was too dark and gory to describe. I remember the days the most. When I was in my cage. For some reason, I was close to sanity during the day. I could be concious and I was tortured by what I did. The moment the sun set, I was gone again. Excited, overjoyed to kill, to feel the blood in my mouth and the flesh rip under my claws. To see the thumb go down, and to stand over the body of my oponent, victorious. The feeling is indescibable. But at my worst, they came. Handler saw me fight and knew I would be a good fighter. My last fight that night though," She stopped again, but continued. "My last fight was with a Minotaurus. I was tired, but still excited so I fought. He won. Almost killed me, but Handler, Patrick, spoke to the Lowen. The Lowen spared me and Patrick took me in. Saved my life. He had Ben tend my wounds. Ben became my best friend. If we had known each other in diferent circumstances..." She trailed off.

"Wow." Was all Monroe said. Exactly what Nick was thinking. But now he must interview the family.

xxx

A/N I have had a difficult time getting the Handler & Groom interviews, so I cut them and just have the Ben interview.

xxx

"Please state your name for the record."

"Ben Holohan." Nick paused and scrutinized Ben. He had lean features, black hair and green-brown eyes. Average height and lean, but strong looking. Nondescript really. But he had a quietness to him, that seemed to eminate from his very soul.

"Yes?" He looked up at Nick from where he sat at the table.

"Your father is Patrick Holohan?"

"Yes." There was nothing but hopelessness in his eyes.

"You father was involved in the Lowen games?" Ben was silent. "Ben," He leaned forward. "I'm a Grimm. I want to know if your father was involved in the Lowen games." Ben's eyes widened at the mention of Grimm, but stayed quiet. Nick put his head in his hands. "Ben, your father is going to prison anyway. Any court will convict him."

"Even if Kat doesn't testify?" Intesity burned in his gaze. The idea was totally new to Nick. After what she had told him, would she testify against the Holohan family?

"Most likely." He withered.

"I know my father and mother, that they," He stopped. "But what about me?"

"You're a minor, so you will probably be prosecuted as a minor, as it was your parents that started this. But will most likly go to juve, and depending on the sentance, go into foster care." Now Ben looked utterly broken. "Look, Ben, you could plea stockholm syndrome. You would simply be put in foster care with counciling."

"I'm not selling out my parents." Where did that come from?

"I didn't ask,"

"Yes you did. I'm not selling them out to a Grimm. We are following the family tradition. Being Owners is something my family has passed down from generation to generation. You follow your heritage, why shouldn't we?" His words stung, but they had a ring of truth.

"My heritage does not in involve capturing people to die in the arena."

"Neither does ours. We don't capture. We rescue arena fodder and insanites. We give them a chance at a better life." Now it wasn't the quiet Ben speaking, it was his father, lean hard features, equally hard eyes. His face shifted subdly to jackal, and he looked even more like his father.

"But what about Kat?" Ben froze, and slowy shifted back.

"Kat, she was deep in arena insanity when my dad kept the Lowen from having her killed. For all of them a normal life is out of the question, but Kat," He stopped. The pieces fell together and Nick realized the unspoken truth.

"You love her, don't you." He had no idea where it came from, but by the look on Ben's face, it was true.

"I don't know how it happened, I just know it is."

"And she doesn't love you." It actually seemed obvious. She couldn't love him, for all he had done for her, he was still the son of her captor, the face of her suffering.

"No." Silence layed heavy across the room. "I just wish this could all be over, that me and mom and dad could just be back on the road again, with some unnnamed fighter, not Kat." But he could never have that again. Nick had nothing more to say, so he got up to leave, the pain was palpable.

"I will get you a good lawyer, Ben." He when to put a hand on his shoulder, but stopped, and left the room, and the tormented boy behind him.

xxx

Monroe and the Sabelkatze stared silently at each other. The papers had checked out, now Monroe was on his way to becoming the legal guardian of a Sabelkatze who may or may not have arena insanity, not to mention that Blutbaden and Sabelkatze don't get along, dogs and cats you know. How did he get here?

"Look." She spoke. Her voice was still quiet, but strong. "I know that you don't want this, and I don't either, come to think of it I don't know how the Grimm got us into this in the first place. But anyway, I will stay out of you business, I don't eat much, I won't be home a lot, and I will not use up all the hot water." Monroe couldn't help but smile.

"Don't worry, I have unlimited hot water." This evoked a small smile from her, it transformed her face, lighting it up. "And hey, maybe having a teenager will be good for me."

"A teenager who has been in the Lowen games for two years?"

"I don't think that makes you much different from other teenagers, you certainly don't seem that different." Her smile grew a little wider.

"Thanks. I will do my best so you don't regret this, Monroe." She seemed a little awkward calling him by his last name.

"Call me Eddie."

"Okay, Eddie." They smiled at each other, and he started his little bug and started to drive away from the precinct. As they passed the front, Ben was being escourted out by his new family. He had been let off without a sentence, pleading stockholm, and was put directly into the foster care system, as he was only sixteen. Ben tired to catch Kat's eye as they drove by. She turned away, an expression of pure sadness and pain on her face. A new feeling washed over Monroe, a feeling of anger because this Schakal had upset Kat. Was this what a parent feels like? Without thinking, he shifted and growled at the Schakal, who looked away surprised. After driving for a while in silence, Kat spoke up.

"He can't help it you know."

"What?"

He may have been the son of my captor, but he loves me. Really loves me. He can't help it. But there is no way I could ever love him back." Monroe blinked, and felt tears, he had always been a softie.

"But of he comes near you I will rip his head off." Thank god my voice didn't crack! Kat gave a weak smile.

"They may be smart, but in a fight between a Schakal and Blutbad, my money's on the Blutbad." He smiled at her and they spent the rest of the drive in comfortable silence.

xxx

Kat looked at her new room. It wasn't her trailer, definitely not. There was a fairly large bed, bedside table, dresser, desk, and armchair. Comforable, and done in dark, earth browns and blues. There was a large window above the bed that was covered by heavy navy curtains. She climbed onto the bed and pulled them back, flooding the room with weak sunlight and revealing a veiw of the park across the street. She walked over and opened the mirrored closet door, it was empty, nothing but hangers and a note.

'**I don't know if you have any clothes, or what your size is, but whenever you want we can go shopping.**' Kat smiled despite of herself. It was totally alien, her own room that wasn't a trailer, a man who really cared for her. She shut the closet and sank into the armchair, trying to take it all in.

xxx

Monroe sat in a dinning room chair, elbows on the table. Kat was upstairs, exploring her new room. He was giving her space, she needed it. He hoped the note he left in the closet wouldn't offend her.

"Hey." He started up, she had entered the room silently.

"Hey, what did you think of your room?"

"I liked it." She smiled at him, and sat down beside him. "So I was wondering, when do we go on that shopping trip?" She gave a half mischevious smile. Monroe realized he loved how her personality was beginning to come out from beneath the layers of introvertedness and pain.

"Whenever you want."

"Now?" She ventured.

"Sure." He stood up.

"Okay." She stood next to him, her head coming to his chest. He pulled her into a quiet hug, before they silently got coats, and went to his car. Walking down the path, starting their new life, together.

xxx

Nick sat at his desk with his head in his hands. Monroe and Kat were living together, and he could already see a bond forming. The Holohans were in prison, all except for Ben,who had been placed with a good family, and would hopefully find his place in the world. Out of all the bloodshed, pain, and love that only hurts, good had come.

Good comes from choas, but not at the end of the day it was a very small acomplishment. There were still Lowen games, Owners, arena insanity tourtured people. But he had made someones life better. Hopefully several lives.

At the end of the day, he was a Grimm, and had given a new life to a Sabelkatze named Kat.

Sabelkatze ~ Sabre Cat

Schakal ~ Jackal

Minotaurus ~ Minotaur

Kojotehasslich ~ Coyote Ugly

Schlaufuchs ~ Cunning Fox


End file.
